The new 'anti-nacionalismo'
Spanish-language blog, El Siglo de las Luces, has a well written and interesting post about moves by the Spanish right to expand its influence by forming and supporting supposed NGOs and pressure groups around the country. These groups traditionally start out as single-issue before becoming more and more embroiled in the two topics which seem to excite the political extremes in this country: left versus right; and the question of nationalism (this term usually only referring to Catalan and Basque nationalism/separatism.
The classic example of this is the AVT (Association of Victims of Terrorism). Ostensibly formed as a support/pressure group for victims of ETA and their families, the AVT long ago became a sort of rent-a-mob for high profile, low impact demonstrations in Madrid where protesters gnash their teeth and do the whole Two Minutes Hate thing.
I've written about the AVT before (I stand by everything I wrote six months ago) and currently words fail me to describe how bitterly I dislike their nasty mixture of pressure politics, rhetoric and sheer anti-reason. There is simply no point in attempting an ordinary criticism of the AVT because they are so astoundingly out of it. Sometimes, I think it's part of a clever plot to utterly confound critics: where do I start? they've opened a battle against logic on so many fronts that I get headaches just trying to list them.
Instead, I recommend reading that blog post at El Siglo de las Luces. And consider that even though it may not be working that well, the PP's strategy is pretty clever. By politicising members of the Spanish working class (nominally against one thing they don't like, e.g. subsidies for Catalan language, ETA, etc), the PP have forged a plan which, should it eventually start working, could well extend their platform of support and - more importantly - their political influence throughout Spain.
tombcn.com - my blog posts about travel, books, food and music
Where's the generosity, man?
Huh? What's that sound? The PP and their stooges in the AVT are still trying to derail the peace process (even harder than ETA themselves seem to be)? Quelle surprise!
Yet again, Madrid has been flooded by a puddle of Angry People Against The Commies, the umbrella organisation which has convened several large anti-peace demonstrations in the Spanish capital. The aim of this group is quite simple: look at anything which the PSOE government might be proposing and shout ¡NO! as loud as possible while simultaneously blocking one's ears to reason and trying to clap Our Lord Aznar on the back.
It's a tough role to play but someone has to do it.
tombcn.com - my blog posts about travel, books, food and music
Today's video of the day
"That's Not Gold, That's Dung"

Enjoy this classic Neil Hamburger magic!
tombcn.com - my blog posts about travel, books, food and music
Albert Rivera and the PP
Here's the story in El Periódico... funny, that. Seems he joined the PP at one of the party's lowest points, when the government made the hugely unpopular decision to invade Iraq. Of course, the same people who blindly supported a party with one policy in the recent elections will probably also say they supported the invasion of Iraq and don't recognise the fact that those of use who opposed it have been vindicated.
That's because some people choose to think with their hearts, not their brains. Good luck to them, I say.
tombcn.com - my blog posts about travel, books, food and music
The King is back
Many people have previously written Michael Jackson off as a creepy, melt-faced loon whose bizarre antics have directly contributed to his very public demise. Last night, those nay-sayers were firmly told where to go, after MJ (that's what we, his fans call him) shook up London in a storm of glamour, children and warbled lines.
The rumours started a few days ago. Those in the know started saying that MJ would be making an appearance at the World Music Awards (which sounds suitably vague and meaningless as to have been invented by the King of Pop himself!). As fans and other misfits flocked to London in order to prance and moan in the traditional 'love you / hope you die' spectacle, Michael Jackson sped through the city in a black limousine, about to make a triumphant comeback which would rock the pop world and briefly rank as the sixth piece in BBC News's 'Other top stories' section. Still, he was pursued by uncertainty and mystery... would he sing? would he not sing? if he did sing, what song would he sing? if he didn't sing, then why not? if he did sing, would he attempt another misguided set-piece to prove how much he loves 'the kids'? Yes, no, We Are The World, N/A, yes.
The man himself arrived at wherever the venue was and showed off his new face. More angular than previously thought possible, Michael's cheekbones now appear to have been fashioned from china clay and then kilned for several days - a look which Victoria Beckham will agree is very much 'in' this autumn. MJ insisted to staff outside the theatre, or whatever, that he had never planned to sing that night and there had been a misunderstanding.
But that was just another clever trick from The Most Important Man In The History Of Music™! Because he was planning to sing and he knew that all along! With a choir of more than twenty minors, MJ danced to a tape of his classic masterpiece in fatuous sentimentality, We Are The World. At one point, Michael joined in with the recording, moaning the words to the chorus softly as he was clearly out of breath. Despite being nearly 60, the great man still knows how to feed off the energy of the innocent souls around him. And I think that this is what makes him so great. Cheers, Michael!
tombcn.com - my blog posts about travel, books, food and music
Monday lunchtime
On Monday at about half-past two, I went to buy my lunchtime sandwich from the Granja Bristol while talking to Gemma on my mobile phone. As I rounded the corner to the café’s door, I saw a few people standing around looking at a figure collapsed on the side-road where a new car park is currently being constructed.
The man was lying prone in the street, immobile, cheek against the macadam, legs crossed, arms splayed out. I’d seen this before. A girl fell out of our student flat’s window once when drunk and landed in a similar position. She’d survived with a broken arm or something. I saw her doing shots of tequila and vodka a week later in the pub.
So in a way the sight of someone in that position after what was obviously a fall didn’t affect me as much as it did other onlookers. A colleague of mine had seen his body hit the ground, not quite knowing what it was. I was more concerned by his stillness and the fact that a couple of people were close to the body but no one was talking to him. I thought I saw his finger twitch at one point but I may have imagined it.  I muttered “osti!†several times as people related the events that had taken place while the blood pooled around the man’s head and flowed gently down the slope towards the river.
The police came and checked his vital signs. “No pulseâ€, one cop said before heading back to his car for one of those thin, metallic plastic sheets they use to keep athletes warm after a marathon or to cover up dead bodies.
“Francisco R.R.â€, as the local news named him, was 34 years old and a Sabadell resident. The reason for his suicide remains unknown though he had been at his girlfriend’s flat and I suppose there must have been some argument between them. The owner of the café told me that Francisco was ‘a bit fucked up’ and suggested that he was a junkie. The street had been cleaned by that evening.
tombcn.com - my blog posts about travel, books, food and music
Victory for the homeland!
Those of you who visit thebadrash.com regularly might well be aware that I'm from Devon in England. The second biggest county in the country, Devon is the home of cream teas, Buckfast Tonic* Wine, Old Mother Hubbard and the guys who defeated the Spanish Armada. As well as this, Devon played a crucial role in the establishment of America, played host to a captured Napoleon and is the original location of the world famous Widdecombe Fayre.
So it is with great pride that I, a son of this noble, blessed land, can bring to wider attention the news that once again, Devon has shown itself to be superior to those simpering maniacs to our west, the Cornish. For decades, these Celtic rebels have done their best to steal the limelight from once-proud Devon. At long, long last we can confidently claim that we have scored a major victory against our wicked, seditious neighbours.
That's right, evidence has proven what many of us have long suspected to be true: the so-called 'Cornish Pasty', a delicious snack of buttery pastry, minced beef, turnip and potato is in fact the 'Devon Pasty' - and much tastier for the name change, too.
But we Devonish folk won't gloat about this important moment. Not for long, anyway. The Cornish have lost something which they have valued deeply since they stole it from us, and it must hurt very much to know that they now have nothing.
*Use of the word 'tonic' does not imply health-giving or medicinal properties.
tombcn.com - my blog posts about travel, books, food and music
RIP Jack Palance

Jack Palance, film actor, 1919-2006
tombcn.com - my blog posts about travel, books, food and music
Edmilson sums it up perfectly
"The worst thing about playing Chelsea is having to listen to Mourinho afterwards."
tombcn.com - my blog posts about travel, books, food and music

